LIBRARY OF CONGRESS^ 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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Number -- 



Thirty-Six, 



READINGS 



KRDM 



WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, 




NEW YORK: 
PHILLIPS & HUNT 

CINCINNATI ; 

WALDEN A STOWE 

1883. 




— ssssea-rr 



College Serik> ->nr Inmdred sliori dad^fs on 

a wiu lojects — biograpli al, scientific, 

tic, politi' leligious. Indeed, the religious tone will cbii 

of them. Tliey are written for every body — for all whose leisure is limited, 
but who desire toiise the minutes for the enrichment of life. 

These papers contain seeds from the best gardens in all the world of 
human knowledge, and if dropped wisely into good soil, will bring fortli 
harvests of beauty and value. 

They are for the young — especially for young people (and older people, 
too) who are out of the schools, who are full of "business" and "nr. ." 
who are in danger of readincr nothino". or of rftadinf n .«^pnsaiionjil lit 
that is worse tlian nothin.:. 

One of tliese papers a week read over and over, thought and talked about 
at "odd times," will give in one year a vast fund of information, an intel- 
lectual quickening, worth even more than the mere knowledge acquirteij, a 
taste for solid reading, many hours of simple and wholesome plAaanrp nWd 
ability to talk intelligently and helpfully to one's friends. 

•r " Lyceum 1 
tJnions," or "Chautau<|ua L, Scientific Circles," and help the 

young people to read and think ana taiK and live to worthier purpo- 

A young man may have his own little " college " all by himself, read ihia 
series of tracts one after the other, (there will soDn be one hundred of them 
ready,) examine himself on tliera by tl.e " Thought-Outline to Help the M< 
ory," and thus gain knowledge, and, what is better, a love of knowledge. 

And what a young man may do in this respoei a young woman, and lx)tli 
old men and old women, may do. 

New York, Jan., 1SS3. 



J. H. VlNCEN 



Copyright 1"-" 



■w York. 



P0mt College ^txm. jtumkr Cl^irtg-giy. 
READINGS FROM 

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH; 



THE RAINBOW. 

My heart leaps up when I behold 

A rainbow in the sky : 
So was it when my life began ; 
So is it now I am a man ; 
So be it when I shall grow old, 

Or let me die ! 
The child is father of the man ; 
And I could wish my days to be 
Bound each to each by natural piety. 



A SONNET. 

Scorn not the sonnet ; Critic, you have frowned 

Mindless of its just honors; with this key 

Shakespeare unlocked his heart ; the melody 

Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound, 

A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound ; 

Camoens soothed with it an exile's grief; 

The sonnet glittered a gay mistle leaf 

Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned 

His visionary brow ; a glow-worm lamp, 

It cheered Miles Spencer ; called from Faery-land, 

To struggle through dark ways ; and, when a damp 

Fell 'round the path of Milton, in his hand, 

The thing became a trumpet, whence he blew 

Soul-animating strains — alas, too few I 



TO THE r>AISY. 

Bright flower, whose home is every- where I 
A pilgrim bold in nature's care, 
And all the long year through the heir 
Of joy or sorrow, 



* See " Home College Series, Number Two. 



HEADINGS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 

Methinks that there abides in thee 
Some concord with humanity, 
Given to no other flower I see 
The forest thorough ! 

Is it that man is soon depressed ? 

A thoughtless thing I who, once unblest, 

Does httle on his memory rest, 

Or on his reason ; 
But thou wouldst teach him how to find 
A shelter under every wind, 
A hope for times that are unkind, 

And every season. 

Thou wander'st the wide world about. 
Unchecked by pride or scrupulous doubt, 
With friends to greet thee, or without. 

Yet pleased and willing; 
Meek, yielding to the occasion's call, 
And all things suffering from all, 
Thy function apostoUcal 

In peace fulfilling. 



YARROW^ UNVISITED. 

From Stirling Castle we have seen 

The mazy Forth unraveled ; 
Had trod the banks of Clyde and Tay, 

And with the Tweed had traveled; 
And when we came to Clovenford, 

Then said my '^winsome marrow^'''' 
" Whatever betide, we'll turn aside, 

And see the Braes of Yarrow." 

" Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town, 

Who have been buying, selling. 
Go back to Yarrow, 'tis their own ; 

Each maiden to her dwelling ! 
On Yarrow's banks let herons feed. 

Hares couch, and rabbits burrow 1 
But we will downward with the Tweed, 

Nor turn aside to Yarrow. 



MEADINGS FROM WILLIAM WOBDSWOBTH. 

" There's Gala Water, Leader Haughs, 

Both lying right before us ; 
And Dryburgh, where with chiming Tweed 

The lintwhites sing in chorus ; 
There's pleasant Teviotdale, a land 

Made blithe with plow and harrow: 
Why throw away a needful day 

To go in search of Yarrow? 

** What's Yarrow but a river bare, 

That glides the dark hills under ? 
There are a thousand such elsewhere 

As worthy of your wonder." 
Strange words they seemed of slight and scorn: 

My true love sighed for sorrow ; 
And looked me in the face, to think 

I thus could speak of Yarrow ! 

"0, green," said I, "are Yarrow's holms, 

And sweet is Yarrow flowing ! 
Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, 

But we will leave it growing. 
O'er hilly path, and open strath, 

We'll wander Scotland thorough : 
But, though so near, we will not turn 

Into the dale of Yarrow. 

*' Let beeves and home-bred kine partake 

The sweets of Burn-mill meadow ; 
The swan on still St. Mary's Lake 

Float double, swan and shadow 1 
We will not see them : will not go. 

To-day, nor yet to-morrow ; 
Enough if in our hearts we know 

There's such a place as Yarrow. 

" Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown f 

It must, or we shall rue it : 
We have a vision of our own ; 

Ah! why should we undo it? 
The treasured dreams of times long past, 

We'll keep tliem, winsome marrow I 
For when we're there, although 'tis fair, 

'Twill be another Yarrow I 



HEADINGS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 



*'If care with freezing years should come, 

And wanderiiio: seem but folly — 
Should we be loth to stir from home, 

And yet be melancholy ; 
Should life be dull, and spirits low, 

'Twill soothe us in our sorrow, 
That earth has something yet to show, 

The bonny liolms of Yarrow I " 



YARROW VISITED. 

And is this Yarrow ? This the stream 

Of which my fancy cherished, 
So faithfully, a waking dream ? 

An image that hath perished I 
0, that some minstrel's harp were near, 

To utter notes of gladness, 
And chase this silence from the air. 

That fills my heart with sadness. 

Yet why ? A silvery current flows 

With uncontrolled meanderings ; 
Nor have these eyes by greener hills 

Been soothed, in all my wanderings. 
And, through her depths, Saint Mary's Lake 

Is visibly delighted ; 
For not a feature of those hills 

Is in the mirror slighted. 

A blue sky bends o'er Yarrow vale, 

Save where that pearly whiteness 
Is round the rising sun diffused, 

A tender hazy brightness : 
Mild dawn of promise ! that excludes 

All profitless dejection : 
Though not unwilling here to admit 

A pensive recollection. 

Where was it that the famous flower 

Of Yarrow vale lay bleeding ? 
His bed perchance was yon smooth mound 

On which the herd is feeding ; 



READmaS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 5 

And haply from this crystal pool, 

Now peaceful as the morning, 
The water- wraith ascended thrice, 

And gave his doleful warning. 

Delicious is the lay that sings 

The haunts of happy lovers, 
The path that leads them to the grove, 

The leafy grove that covers : 
And pity sanctifies the verse 

That paints, by strength of sorrow, 
The unconquerable strength of love ; 

Bear witness, rueful Yarrow 1 

But thou that didst appear so fair 

To fond imagination. 
Dost rival in the light of day 

Her delicate creation : 
Meek loveliness is round thee spread, 

A softness still and holy; 
The grace of forest charms decayed, 

And pastoral melancholy. 

That region left, the vale unfolds 

Rich groves of lofty stature, 
With Yarrow winding through the pomp 

Of cultivated nature ; 
And, rising from those lofty groves. 

Behold a ruin hoary I 
The shattered front of Newark's towers, 

Renowned in border story. 

Fair scenes for childhood's opening bloom; 

For sportive youth to stray in ; 
For manhood to enjoy his strength ; 

And age to wear away in ! 
Yon cottage seems a bower of bliss, 

A covert for protection 
Of tender thoughts that nestle there, 

The brood of chaste affection. 

How sweet, on this autumnal day. 

The wild- wood's fruits to gather, 
And on my true love's forehead plant 

A crest of blooming heather ! 



6 BEADINGS FROM WILLIAM WOBBSWOBTH. 

And what if I enwreathed my own I 

'Twere no offense to reason ; 
The sober hills thus deck their brows 

To meet the wintry season. 

I see — ^but not by sight alone, 

Loved Yarrow, have I won thee! 
A ray of fancy still survives — 

Her sunshine plays upon thee I 
Thy ever youthful waters keep 

A course of lively pleasure; 
And gladsome notes my lips can breathe, 

According to the measure. 

The vapors linger round the heights, 

They melt and soon must vanish; 
One hour is theirs, no more is mine — 

Sad thought, which I would banish, 
But that I know, where'er I go. 

Thy genuine image. Yarrow, 
Will dwell with me, to heighten joy, 

And cheer my mind in sorrow I 



ODE TO DUTY. 

Stern daughter of the voice of God! 

ODutyl if that name thou love, 
Who art a hght to guide, a rod 

To check the erring, and reprove; 
Thou who art victory and law 
When empty terrors overawe; 
From vain temptations dost set free; 
And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity I 

There are who ask not if thine eye 

Be on them ; who, in love and truth, 
Where no misgiving is, rely 

Upon the genial sense of youth ; 
Glad hearts 1 without reproach or blot ; ^ 

Who do thy work, and know it not : 
Long may the kindly impulse last I 
But thou, if they should totter, teach them to stand fast I 



READINGS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 

Serene will be our days and bright, 

And happy will our nature be, 
When love is an unerring light. 

And joy its own security. 
And they a blissful course may hold 
Even now, who, not unwisely bold, 
Live in the spirit of this creed ; 
Yet find that other strength, according to their need. 



Stern lawgiver ! yet thou dost wear 

The Godhead's most benignant grace ; 
Nor know we any thing so fair 

As is the smile upon thy face : 
Flowers laugh before thee on their beds ; 
And fragrance in thy footing treads ; 
Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong ; 
And the most ancient heavens, through thee, are fresh 
and strong. 

To humbler functions, awful power, 

I call thee ; I myself commend 
Unto thy guidance from this hour ; 

0, let my weakness have an end I 
Give unto me, made lowly wise, 
The spirit of self-sacrifice ! 
The confidence of reason give ; 
And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live I 



ODE. 

INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY PROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD. 

" The Child is father of the man ; 

And I could wish my days to be 

Bound each to each by natural piety." (See page 1.) 

" The Ode on Immortality marks the highest limit which the tide of poetic Inspira- 
tion has reached in England since the days of Milton."— S^mVp. 

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, 
The earth, and every common sight, 
To me did seem 
Appareled in celestial light, 
The glory and the freshness of a dream. 



8 READINGS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, 

It is not now as it hath been of yore — 
Turn wlieresoe'er I may, 
By night or day, 
The things which I have seen I now can see no more. 

The rainbow comes and goes, 
And lovely is the rose ; 
The moon doth with delight 
Look round her when the heavens are bare; 
Waters on a starry night 
Are beautiful and fair; 
The sunshine is a glorious birth; 
But yet I know, where'er I go, 
That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. 

Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, 
And while the young lambs bound 
As to the tabor's sound, 
To me alone there came a thought of grief : 
A timely utterance gave that thought relief, 

And I again am strong : 
The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep, 
No more sliall grief of mine the season wrong ; 
I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, 
The winds come to me from the fields of sleep. 
And all the ear this gay ; 
Land and sea 
Give themselves up to jollity, 

And wit) I the heart of May 
Doth every beast keep holiday ; 
Thou child of joy, 
Shout round me ; let me hear thy sliouts, thou happy shepherd boy ! 

Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call 

Ye to each otlier make ; I see 
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; 
My heart is at your festival, 
My head hath its coronal, 
The fullness of your bliss, I feel — T feel it all. 
evil day I if I were sullen 
While the earth itself is adorning, 
This sweet May morning, 



HEADINGS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, 

And the children are pulling, 
On every side, 

In a thousand valleys far and wide, 

Fresh flowers ; while the sun shines warm, 
And the babe leaps up on his mother's arm : 

I hear, I hear, with joy I hear I 

But there's a tree, of many, one, 
A single field which I have looked upon, 
Both of them speak of something that is gone : 

The pansy at my feet 

Doth the same tale repeat : 
Whither is fled the visionary gleam ? 
Where is it now, the glory and the dream ? 

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: 
The soul that rises with us, our life's star, 

Haili had elsewhere its setting, 
And Cometh from afar : 

Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 
But trailing clouds of glory do we come 

From God, who is our home : 
Heaven hes about us in our infancy I 
Shades of the prison-house begin to close 

Upon the growing boy. 
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, 

He sees it in his joy ; 
The youth, who daily farther from the east 

Must travel, still is Nature's priest. 

And by the vision splendid 

Is on his way attended; 
At length the man perceives it die away, 
And fade into the light of common day. 

Earth fills her lap witii pleasure of her own ; 

Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, 

And, even with something of a mother's mind, 
And no iniworthy aim, 
The homely nurse doth all she can 

To make her foster-child, her inmate man, 
Forget the glories he hatii known, 

And that imperial palace whence he came. 



10 BEADING8 FBOM WILLIAM W0BD8W0BTH. 

Behold the child among his new-born blisses, 
A six-years' darling of a pigmy size ! 
See where 'mid work of his own hand he lies, 
Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, 
With light upon him from his father's eyes ! 
See, at his feet, some little plan or chart. 
Some fragment from his dream of human life, 
Shaped by himself with newly-learned art ; 

A wedding or a festival, 

A mourning or a funeral ; 

And this hath now his heart. 

And unto this he frames his song: 
Then will he fit his tongue 
To dialogues of business, love, or strife ; 

But it will not be long 

Ere this be thrown aside, 

And with new joy and pride 
The little actor cons another part ; 
Filling from time to time his "humorous stage" 
With all the persons, down to palsied age. 
That life brings with her in her equipage ; 

As if his whole vocation 

Were endless imitation. 



Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie 

Thy soul's immensity ; 
Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep 
Thy heritage ; thou eye among the blind, 
That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, 
Haunted forever by the eternal mind — 
Mighty prophet I seer blest I 
On whom those truths do rest, 
Which we are toiling all our lives to find, 
In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave; 
Thou, over whom thy immortality 
Broods like the day, a master o'er a slave, 
A presence which is not to be put by ; 
Thou little child, yet glorious in the might 
Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, 
Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke 
The years to bring tlie inevitable yoke, 



HEADINGS FROM WILLIAM W0BD8W0BTK 11 

Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife ? 
Full soon thy soul shall have her earthly freight, 
And custom lie upon thee with a weight, 
Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life I 

joy I that in our embers 

Is something that doth live, 
That nature yet remembers 
What was so fugitive I 
The thought of our past years in me doth breed 
Perpetual benediction ; not, indeed, 
For that which is most worthy to be blest ; 
Delight and liberty, the simple creed 
Of childhood, whether busy or at rest, 
With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast: 
Not for these I raise 
The song of thanks and praise ; 
But for those obstinate questionings 
Of sense and outward things, 
Fallings from us, vanishings; 
Blank misgivings of a creature 
Moving about in worlds not realized, 
High instincts before which our mortal nature 
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised : 
But for those first affections, 
Those shadowy recollections, 
Which, be they what they may, 
Are yet the fountain-light of all our day, 
Are yet a master-light of all our seeing ; 

Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make 
Our noisy years seem moments in the being 
Of the eternal silence ; truths that wake 

To perish never ; 
Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavor, 

Nor man, nor boy. 
Nor all that is at enmity with joy. 
Can utterly abolish or destroy 1 

Hence, in a season of calm weather. 
Though inland far we be, 
Our souls have sight of that immortal sea 
Which brought us hither. 

Can in a moment travel thither, 



12 READINGS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, 

And see the children sport upon the shore, 
And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. 

Then sing, ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song I 
And let the young lambs bound 
As to the tabor's sound I 

"We in thought will join your throng, 

Ye that pipe and ye that play, 
Ye that through your hearts to-day 
Feel the gladness of the May I 

What though the radiance which was once so bright 

Be now forever taken from my sight, 

Though nothing can bring back the hour 

Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; 
We will grieve not, rather find 
Strength in what remains behind; 
In the primal sympathy 
Which having been must ever be, 
In the soothing thoughts that spring 
Out of human suffering, 
In the faith that looks through death, 

In years that bring the philosophic mind. 

And ye fountains, meadows, hills, and groves, 

Think not of any severing of our loves I 

Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might: 

I only have relinquished one delight 

To live beneath your more habitual sway. 

I love the brooks which down their channels fret, 

Even more than when I tripped lightly as they ; 

The innocent brightness of a new-born day 

Is lovely yet ; 
The clouds that gather round the setting sun 
Do take a sober coloring from an eye 
That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; 
Another race hath been, and other palms are won. 
Thanks to the human heart by which we live. 
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, 
To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 



BEADINGS FROM WILLIAM WOBBSWORTH. 13 

THE EXCURSION. 

" To many who care little for the philosophy, the ' Excursion * will always be dear for 
the pictures of mountain scenes. The two hooks of ' The Church-yard Among the 
Mountains ' are, beyond all the others, sustained in interest and perfect in style. The 
silent tenants of the * Church-yard ' are so many separate individual portraits of the 
deeper side of character."— S^airp. 

From one of these books the following selections are made ; 

" Almost at the root 
Of that tall pine, the shadow of whose bare 
And slender stem, while iiere I sit at eve, 
Oft stretches toward me, like a long straight path 
Traced faintly in the green sward — there, beneath 
A plain blue stone, a gentle dalesman lies, 
From whom in early childhood was withdrawn 
The precious gift of hearing. He grew up 
From year to year in loneliness of soul ; 
And this deep mountain valley was to him 
Soundless, with all its streams. The bird of dawn 
Did never rouse this cottager from sleep 
With startling summons ; not for his delight 
The vernal cuckoo shouted ; not for him 
Murmured the laboring bee. When stormy winds 
Were working the broad bosom of the lake 
Into a thousand thousand sparkling waves, 
Rocking the trees, or driving cloud on cloud 
Along the sharp edge of yon lofty crags, 
The agitated scene before his eye 
Was silent as a picture; evermore 
Were all things silent, wheresoe'er he moved. 
Yet, by the solace of his own pure thoughts 
Upheld, he duteously pursued the round 
Of rural labors; the steep mountain-side 
Ascended with his stafif and faithful dog ; 
The plow he guided, and the scythe he swayed ; \ 

And the ripe corn before his sickle fell 
Among the jocund reapers. For himself, 
All watchful and industrious as he was, 
He wrought not; neither field nor flock he owned: 
No wish for wealth had place within his mind; 
Nor husband's love, nor father's hope or care. 
Though born a younger brother, need was none 
That from the floor of his paternal home 



14 READINGS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 

He should depart, to plant himself anew. 

And when, mature in manhood, he beheld 

His parents laid in earth, no loss ensued 

Of rights to him ; but he remained well pleased, 

By the pure bond of independent love. 

An inmate of a second family. 

The fellow-laborer and friend of him 

To whom the small inheritance had fallen. 

Nor deem that his mild presence was a weight 

That pressed upon his brother's house, for books 

Were ready comrades whom he could not tire — 

Of whose society the blameless man 

Was never satiate. Their familiar voice, 

Even to old age, with unabated charm 

Beguiled his leisure hours; refreshed his thoughts; 

Beyond its natural elevation raised 

His introverted spirit ; and bestowed 

Upon his life an outward dignity 

Which all acknowledged. The dark winter night, 

The stormy day, had each its own resource; 

Song of the muses, sage historic tale. 

Science severe, or word of Holy Writ, 

Announcing immortality and joy 

To the assembled spirits of the just, 

From imperfection and decay secure. 

Thus soothed at liome, thus busy in the field, 

To no perverse suspicion he gave way. 

No languor, peevishness, nor vain complaint; 

And they, who were about him, did not fail 

In reverence, or in courtesy ; they prized 

His gentle manners; and his peaceful smiles, 

The gleams of his slow-varying countenance. 

Were met with answering sympathy and love. 

"At length, when sixty years and five were told, 
A slow disease insensibly consumed 
The powers of nature; and a few short steps 
Of friends and kindred bore him from his home 
(Yon cottage shaded by the woody crags) 
To the profounder stillness of the grave. 
Nor was his funeral denied the grace 
Of many tears, virtuous and thoughtful grief; 



BEADINOS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 15 

Heart-sorrow rendered sweet by gratitude. 

And now that monumental stone preserves 

His name, and unambitiously relates 

How long, and by what kindly outward aids, 

And in what pure contentedness of mind, 

The sad privation was by him endured. 

And yon tall pine-tree, whose composing sound 

Was wasted on the good man's living ear, 

Hath now its own peculiar sanctity; 

And, at the touch of every wandering breeze, 

Murmurs, not idly, o'er his peaceful grave. 

" Soul-cheering light, most boimtiful of things I 
Guide of our way, mysterious comforter! 
Whose sacred influence, spread through earth and heaven, 
We all too thanklessly participate ; 
Thy gifts were utterly withheld from him 
Whose place of rest is near yon ivied porch. 
Yet, of the wild brooks ask if he complained ; 
Ask of the channeled rivers if they held 
A safer, easier, more determined course. 
What terror doth it strike into the mind 
To think of one who cannot see advancing 
Toward some precipice's airy brink I 
But, timely warned, he would have stayed his steps ; 
Protected, say enlightened, by his ear, 
And on the very edge of vacancy 
Not more endangered than a man whose eye 
Beholds the gulf beneath. No floweret blooms 
Throughout the lofty range of these rough hills, 
Or in the woods, that could from him conceal 
Its birthplace ; none whose figure did not live 
Upon his touch. The bowels of the earth 
Enriched with knowledge his industrious mind; 
The ocean paid him tribute from the stores 
Lodged in her bosom ; and, by science led, 
His genius mounted to the plains of heaven. 
Methinks I see him — how his eye-balls rolled 
Beneath his ample brow, in darkness paired. 
But each instinct with spirit ; and the frame 
Of the whole countenance alive with thought, 
Fancy, and understanding: ; while the voice 



16 READINGS FROM WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 

Discoursed of natural or moral truth 
With eloquence, and such authentic power, 
That, in his presence, humbler knowledge stood 
Abashed, and tender pity overawed." 

" A noble — and, to unreflecting minds, 
A marvelous spectacle," the wanderer said, 
*' Beings like these present! But proof abounds 
Upon the earth that faculties, which seem 
Extinguished, do not, therefore^ cease to be. 
And to the mind among her powers of sense 
This transfer is permitted — not alone 
That the bereft their recompense may win; 
But for remoter purposes of love 
And charity ; nor last nor least for this, 
That to the imagination may be given 
A type and shadow of an awful truth ; 
How, likewise, under sufferance divine, 
Darkness is banished from the realms of death, 
By man's imperishable spirit, quelled. 
Unto the men who see not as we see 
Futurity was thought, in ancient times. 
To be laid open, and they prophesied. 
And know ye not that from the blind have flowed 
The highest, holiest raptures of the lyre. 
And wisdom married to immortal verse ? " 



FROM LINES ON TINTERN ABBEY. 

Nature never did betray 
The heart that loved her ; 'tis her privilege, 
Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
From joy to joy ; for she can so inform 
The mind that is within us, so impress 
With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 
The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
Our cheerful faith that all which we behold 
Is full of blessings. 



1. Biblical Exploration, A Con- 
Icnsed Manual on How to Study the 
Bible. By J. H. Vincent, D.D. Full 
and rich 10 

No. 2, Studies of the Stars. A Pocket 
Guide to the Science of Astronomy. 
By H. W. Warren, D.D, 10 

No. 3. Bible Studies for Little People, 
By Rev. B, T. Vincent. . . 10 

No. 4. English History. By J. H. Vin- 
cent, D.D 10 

No. 5. Greek History. By J. H. Vin- 
cent. D.D 10 

No. 6. Greek Literature. By A. D. 
Vail,DJ) 20 

No. 7. Memorial Days of the Chautau- 
qua Literary Snd Scientific Circle lo 

No. 8. What Noted Mfen Think of the 
Bible. By L. T. Townsend, D.D 10 

No* 9. William^ ,Cullen Bryant 10 

No. 10. What is Education? By. Wm. 
F. Phelps, A.M 10 

No. 11, Socrates. By Pr<ff. W. F. Phelps, 
A.M.... ;. !....,..... 10 

No. 12. Pestalozzi. By_PrQf. W. P. 
Phelps, A.M. 10 

No. 13. Anglo-Saxon, By ProC Albert 

S. Cook ......^ 20 

o. 14. Horac^ Mann. By Prof. Wm. 
F. PheliM, A.M. 10 

No. 15. Frbebei; By Prof. Wm. P. 

Phelps, A.M ............; 10 

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Glimi)se8 of Ej^Iucation in the Six- 
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Phelps, A.M. . . . i 10 

0. 18. Christian Evidences. By J. H. 
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J.H.Vincent, D.D..,,, 1....... 10 

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